


Doing the Dishes

by misura



Category: The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Missing Scene, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, you're probably the first guy I've ever met who actually <i>volunteered</i> to help with the dishes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing the Dishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



"You know, you're probably the first guy I've ever met who actually _volunteered_ to help with the dishes." Dom's voice is warm and amused. "You must be real eager to impress someone."

Brian almost doesn't turn, because he still recalls what seeing Dom up, close and personal does to his knees. "I want to impress someone, I'll do it from behind the wheel," he replies, trying to sound a little cool, a bit aloof. Distant, like Dom's not really the one he's interested in here.

"Well, you've certainly impressed _me_ ," says Dom. "Although maybe not exactly in the way you'd hoped." He grins - Brian grins back almost automatically, only remembering to make it look a bit rueful at the last second.

The faint sound of explosions and Mia laughing come drifting in from the living room.

Brian jerks his head. "You uh don't want to watch the movie?"

Dom shrugs. "Seen it before. It's an action flick - lost of stuff blowing up and people with guns."

"Not really your thing?" Brian knows several of his colleagues intensely dislike action movies, even the ones where the police aren't all incompetent idiots.

"Not at all." Dom grabs a dish-cloth. "I like 'em just fine. As long as it's on TV."

"I hear you." It's incredibly tempting to let go of his cover, to just be himself. They're talking about _movies_ ; it's not exactly a dangerous subject or anything. "So why are you here instead of there, then? No, wait, let me guess: you actually _enjoy_ doing the dishes?"

Dom smiles and raises his hands. "You got me. What can I say, it's my one weakness."

"Right." Brian laughs.

"Maybe I just like the company," Dom says, reaching for a plate.

Brian tries not to stop laughing too abruptly. As far as openings go, it's an even better one than _'you just saved my ass from getting dragged away in cuffs by the cops'_.

The problem, of course, is deciding how he wants to play this. "Thanks."

Dom looks at him. "You're welcome."

"I uh so your sister is really nice," Brian says, because, well, he's undercover. He's a cop. The only way he can play this, the only way he _should want_ to play this is safe.

Dom puts away some of the dry plates. "Well, that's a pity."

"It is? Why?"

"You're not an idiot; you figure it out." Dom reaches for a cup, his arm almost touching Brian's chest.

"Because your sister's off-limits to anyone who isn't good enough for her, which is everyone?" It's a common enough attitude. Brian supposes he'd feel the exact same way, if he'd had a sister.

Dom clicks his tongue. "And here you were doing so well."

"Really?"

Dom shrugs. "Let's say you were en route to making a comeback from that stupid stunt you pulled with your NOS at the race. Not to say I can't appreciate a guy who's just got a pretty face and a smokin' hot bod, but, you know, it's nice to have something to talk about, after."

Brian almost drops a plate. "Sorry, what?"

"You heard me," Dom says. "You want to play dumb, that's you call - I don't judge."

"Yes, you do." Brian tries to think. Playing it safe doesn't really seem to be working out, and playing it not at all safe starts looking better and better, except that - well.

"Okay, yeah. I judge. I'm human. I guess I just don't really see the point in bullshitting about this. I mean, I'm doing the dishes with you, for God's sake. How much more obvious do you want me to get?"

"Sounds like you must be real eager to impress someone." Brian feels a bit light-headed. He's going to do this - of course he's going to do this. He'll keep it easy, just flirting back, letting Dom make all the moves, not rushing into anything.

He's probably not going to be sleeping in his own bed tonight if that's the plan he's sticking with.

"I want to impress someone, I'll do it behind the wheel," Dom says with a faint smile.

"Looks like there's a lot of people you want to impress, then, if tonight was anything to go by." Brian wonders if there is a way to ask what this is going to be, exactly: a one-time thing, or something a little longer-lasting - because if it's the first, he should definitely break things off now.

Dom won't cut him off completely, he thinks; he'll mumble something about wanting to show Dom he can properly race first or something. That should work well enough.

"Not particularly. Four or five, maybe."

"Four or five?" Brian repeats, trying not to sound like he's - okay, no. He's _not_ having hurt feelings here, just because he wasn't the only person Dom wanted to take home with him.

"You met them, I think." Dom gestures in the general direction of the living room.

"Oh." Brian doesn't think he wants to know what his face is giving away right now. "Right. Them."

"They're all of them family, practically. Well, Mia actually is, but you know what I mean."

Brian's heard of cops who get like that with their partners. Their task forces. Their unit. He's never felt anything even remotely like that himself - which is why those cops are back at the office while he's out here, of course.

"Vince still doesn't like me." Discovering Brian's more interested in Dom than Mia might help, though.

"Vince is an idiot from time to time." Dom puts away the last plate.

"But he's _your_ idiot, so I still can't beat him up because of it, right?"

Dom nods. "Right. 'course, the same goes the other way around."

"I don't need you to protect me," Brian snaps. It's an instinctive response; he doesn't really think about it until after he's already said it.

Dom gives him another look. Brian wonders what he sees - or maybe that should be; _how much_ he sees. Dom is not an idiot, and Brian is technically lying about who he is here, if only by implication.

Long-term, the chances of this ending happily are extremely slim.

Short-term - well.

"It's not about whether or not you need it," Dom says. "It's about whether or not you're family. Whether or not _I_ want you to be family."

"Don't you think maybe you're going a bit fast?" Brian asks. "I mean, what - are we talking about marriage here or something? Because I gotta tell you, that's not really what I'm looking for."

"Right. That's why you're doing the dishes back here instead of watching a movie while munching popcorn." Dom grins. "Because you just want something quick and easy. Seriously, who do you think you're fooling here, Brian? Not me, I can tell you that much."

 _Yes, I am,_ Brian thinks. _I'm fooling you completely. It's what I do. It's what I'm good at._

"But, fine," Dom goes on. "If that's how you want to play this, then that's how we'll play. So how do you want to do this? Should I - I don't know, grab a beer or something? And then I'll walk back in here and say something like, hey, haven't seen you here before, you must be new in town."

"Nice car," Brian says, because that's definitely something he would say.

"I'm Dominic Toretto."

"I know. Buy you another drink?"

Dom frowns. "You're not even going to introduce yourself first? I mean, c'mon, what happened to good manners? Okay, so you just want to score, fine, but you could at least tell me your name."

"Seriously? _That's_ what you'd say if I was trying to pick you up in a bar?"

"We're not in a bar," Dom says. "We're in the kitchen. My bedroom's upstairs, if you want to see it. No posters or anything, but I could show you - I don't know, my collection of shirts?"

"Sounds good." Brian gestures with his imaginary beer bottle. "Lead the way."


End file.
